My Second Life by Faye Bird Page A

it,” I said, putting down my phone. I wasn’t sure if we were okay now. We hadn’t talked since lunchtime. Really, I owed her an apology. But when we’d had rows before Rachel usually let them drift, pretended like nothing had happened. It suited me now to do that too.
    â€œDo you want this crepe then?” Rachel said, pointing at a doggy bag on the table.
    â€œYeah,” I said. “Thanks.” And I opened up the bag, lifted the crepe out of its box and started eating. I was relieved. It seemed like things were okay.
    â€œIs it good?” she said.
    I nodded. But it wasn’t. It was cold and it was sticking to the back of my throat. I felt sick. But I had to keep up the act. And I still needed to ask her about a letter for school explaining my absence. And Zak’s party.
    I forced myself to take another bite.
    â€œSo where were you, Ana? Where did you go when you skipped school? You know I have to ask. You can’t just walk out like you did. And you know that.”
    I gagged.
    Rachel saw me. “Ana!”
    I stood up, walked over to the sink, and spat the contents of my mouth into it.
    â€œWhat are you doing?”
    â€œI can’t eat it,” I said. “I thought I was going to be sick.”
    â€œSit down. Have some water.”
    I sat back down at the table, and Rachel brought the water over and sat next to me. I took a couple of sips and neither of us spoke for a minute or two.
    â€œCan I ask you something?” I said.
    â€œOf course.”
    â€œHave I ever mentioned the name … Catherine … before?”
    Saying her name, out loud like that, to Rachel, it felt somehow wrong. Like I was giving away my biggest secret, but I had to ask.
    â€œYou had an imaginary friend for a bit. I think you were about four or five at the time. She was called Catherine.”
    â€œCatherine?” I said. “Are you sure?”
    â€œYes. I don’t know where you got the name from. Maybe a book, or TV. There weren’t any Catherines around at the time.”
    â€œSo what did I used to say … about Catherine?”
    â€œOh, I don’t remember…,” she said.
    â€œYou must remember something?”
    â€œActually, yes — you played hide-and-seek a lot. I remember that now. It was always hide-and-seek.” She stood up and went over to the sink. “Why are you asking?” she said over her shoulder.
    â€œOh, nothing. Just wondering … about the name … I don’t know…”
    â€œRight.”
    â€œI think I’ll have an early night, Rachel,” I said.
    â€œOkay. Call down if you need anything,” she said.
    I took myself up to bed and slid under the duvet again in all my clothes. I closed my eyes, but sleep just wouldn’t come. Because all I could see was Catherine in the water. Her hair splayed out and her head motionless as she lay in the darkness of the river, her eyes wide open as if she too could see the horror of what I had done. Had I known about Catherine — had I known but never allowed myself to think about her? Had I blocked out Catherine and what had happened to her because it was just too awful to face?
    I stared at the ceiling while the hours passed and I waited. I waited for the light to return so that I could get up and go straight back to The Avenue. It was the only thing I could think to do.

 
    friday
    11
    I TOOK R ACHEL A cup of tea in bed at seven o’clock and told her I had to be in early for auditions for the school play, that I’d forgotten to tell her last night, that I’d see her later. She nodded and gladly took the tea.
    And I took the bus and went straight to The Avenue and stood on the Green by the trees. They hid me and I wanted them to. I didn’t want anyone to see that I was here. I might have been wrong about Frances’s house number, but not about Catherine. We’d played hide-and-seek. I’d wanted my dad to